Stealing Her (Covet 1)

“No idea.”

“Would you keep it?” She pulled me in close as we moved to the small dance floor. “If you could, would you keep it?”

I felt my throat all but close up. “Can we not talk about that right now?”

“Not an option,” she snapped back. “Nothing but honesty between us now, you know that.”

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. “Yeah, I would want to keep it, alright? I’m enjoying myself, but I battle with this . . . sickness in me that tells me I’m just like my father, worse, actually.”

“Don’t.” She gripped my chin with her free hand. “Don’t compare yourself to him. He’s not even worthy of standing next to you.”

I exhaled. “Thanks, Izzy.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do.” I didn’t deserve her. I would spend the rest of my life trying to earn her, though, with a smile on my face. “At least people won’t doubt that we’re actually getting married, what with you holding your purse like you’re seconds away from hitting me with it.” I winked.

She lowered it and glared, though it didn’t last long. “You’re antagonizing, you know that?”

“You weren’t complaining a few hours ago when the floor below us filed a noise complaint.”

She looked like she wanted to hide behind me, her cheeks went bright pink. “I wasn’t that loud.”

“Oh, you were.” I grinned triumphantly. “Bridge, God, Bridge, deeper—”

“I’m this close”—face beet red, she held her hand in front of her eye, thumb and forefinger a half inch apart—“to following through with the whole poisoning thing.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for orgasms, Izzy.”

“You also shouldn’t scream so loud that the floor below you thinks someone’s getting murdered.”

I choked on my next sip of champagne.

She shrugged and then leaned closer to me. “Tell you what, let’s make the rounds, shake hands, smile, and then make our excuses so we can go back to the apartment and see if we get an eviction notice for noise.”

I held up my glass and clinked it with hers. “You have yourself a deal.”

“Fabulous.” She downed the rest of her drink and then smiled at me.

And I knew right then: I would never let her go.

Ever.

“Mine,” I whispered under my breath so only she could hear.

She sucked in a breath as I moved around her.

She didn’t know that I needed to marry her to get the trust fund.

And the shares.

Because I hadn’t told her.

Because I didn’t want her to think that’s why I was marrying her. Because in the end, it didn’t even matter.

Because Julian still wasn’t awake.

And if he wasn’t awake.

There was no point.

I took a look around the room and realized this was going to be the new normal. CEO to a company I actually liked, working with a father I wanted to strangle ninety percent of the time, and Izzy.

Maybe love did prevail in the end.

I was in too good of a mood to let my father’s knowing grin piss me off, so I lifted my champagne to the bastard and counted down the hours until I could be naked with my fiancée.

I smiled.

Mine.

Not his.

Mine.

Chapter Forty-One

ISOBEL

“Wait, start over.” We were both lying naked in bed eating ice cream. He handed me a chocolate chip cookie and then grabbed the spoon from me, dipping it back into the rocky road. “You said no to Julian when he asked you out the first time?”

I rolled my eyes. “He was arrogant.”

“I would have paid to see that.” Bridge laughed. “He had his first girlfriend in kindergarten. The guy wasn’t used to rejection from the fairer sex.” He licked the spoon; I’d never wanted to be a piece of silverware more in my life.

He licked one side while watching me.

And then that perfect tongue of his slid across the top.

I jerked it out of his hand and dipped it into the ice cream.

“It’s cool, I was done.” He shook his head at me, his mouth pulling an amused smile.

“You were taking too long eating it.” I wagged the spoon at him, mouth full. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but . . .” I crooked my finger and whispered, “Ice cream melts.”

“Let’s just add ‘sarcastic little shit’ to your resume, shall we?” he teased, grabbing a pillow and holding it high.

“Noooo . . .” I laughed. “Fine, sorry. Here, have a bite, watch the airplane, brrrrr . . .” I circled it in front of him.

He glared and flipped me off then leaned in. “For the record, I’m only doing this because I really want another bite and because I’m a sucker for naked girls making airplane noises.”

He bit down on the spoon.

Warmth spread down my body. “If someone thought I’d be making airplane noises the night before my wedding . . .” My voice trailed off.

His face fell. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t how you pictured—”

“It’s better,” I interjected. It was like I finally came to grips that Julian wasn’t waking up. Bridge said talking about him made it easier, and I think it did, but it still hurt that this part of my life would forever be gone.